


Graveyard Whistling

by cardiac_arrest



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, enjoy the drabble, i have no tags for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:27:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardiac_arrest/pseuds/cardiac_arrest
Summary: “Someone got lucky last night,” Naz teases, smacking Mitch across the hips with his towel wound tight.Mitch laughs through clenched teeth at his stall, trying to hide the shaking of his body. Auston walks past him with an eyebrow raised questioningly and drags gentle fingertips along the raised, angry scratches on Mitch’s torso.





	Graveyard Whistling

**Author's Note:**

> this was a quick thing. idk where it came from. theres no plot, really.
> 
> will i ever finish the chapter of giselle au? hopefully.

Fear is a tangible feeling that courses through Mitch’s veins recurrently. It’s heavy, slowing Mitch down lethargically so his mind works sluggishly to break out of the icy coma that washes over him. There’s nothing he can do about the dreams, nothing he can do about his own recessive mind.

 

He wakes up one night to the sharp patter of rain on his windows. He’s shivering and wet. It doesn’t take long to process the window left ajar, letting in cutting gusts of wind and freezing his bones. He shuts it with trembling hands and falls back into the damp burrows of his blankets. He trails his fingers down his cheek, feeling the cold sticky residue of tacky tears drying on his skin. He remembers and cries.

 

“Someone got lucky last night,” Naz teases, smacking Mitch across the hips with his towel wound tight. 

 

Mitch laughs through clenched teeth at his stall, trying to hide the shaking of his body. Auston walks past him with an eyebrow raised questioningly and drags gentle fingertips along the raised, angry scratches on Mitch’s torso. Mitch flinches, eyes squeezing shut on their own accord as he huddles closer to the safety of the wooden stall. Auston’s eyes are wide with surprise, shocked at Mitch’s response. Mitch turns away quickly, avoiding that worried stare, and shrugs on a T-shirt. He feels prickling behind his eyes and a hitch in his throat. He runs a hand through his wet hair, clenching it, grounding himself. And he breathes out. 

 

“Are you doing okay?” Auston asks, pressed up tightly against Mitch. 

 

“Yeah,” he says. 

 

He takes his Tim’s cup, and fingers the plastic-paper rim. He gnaws at it, rolling it up absentmindedly with his teeth.  _ Réessayez svp. _

 

Auston sips his Iced Capp, slipping a cold hand around Mitch’s waist. Mitch goes, lying his head on Auston’s shoulder. He shuts his eyes.

 

That night, blood trails down his body from his scars in dark scarlet rivers, running along his skin from open splits. Mitch stares in fascination at the liquid; it’s so viscous. There’s a heady sickness in his stomach as the pain embedded into his body turns into numbness. He feels the disappointment, he’s not sure where it comes from. There are shouts all around him—menacing, terrifying, disembodied. He falls, and falls, and falls. He hits the frigid surface of the ocean, feeling every inch of jarring contact upon his bare skin. It hurts. 

 

He wakes up heaving and crying again, the memory of fast-spreading rust-stained water drifting calmly through his mind in a loop. He’s on a carousel.   

 

“Mitch,  _ please, _ ” Auston pleads, embracing Mitch from the back and holding him closely. 

 

Please what, Mitch thinks. There’s an ache in his chest. He slumps back against Auston, his head resting along the crook of Auston’s neck and shoulder. He turns to his right, pressing his lips to the smooth skin of Auston’s neck. He feels Auston’s jumpy pulse. 

 

His eyes flutter shut, lashes fanning against his cheek. He smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. if you liked this fic, please leave a kudos. and if you really liked it, leave a comment down below. tell all your friends and come yell with me on tumblr @mitcheemarns.
> 
> poor mitchy. why is it always mitch?


End file.
